


The Decoy Groom

by bransch



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Magic, F/M, Fake Marriage, Loosely based on The Decoy Bride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-03-09 15:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18919966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bransch/pseuds/bransch
Summary: After a failed turn as a musician in Los Angeles, Killian Jones has returned to his home: Storybrooke Island, a remote, tiny island off the coast of Maine. Emma Swan is a famous actress that just wants one day out of the spotlight so she can get married. Storybrooke Island, just two miles long and accessible only by ferry, seems like the answer to her prayers. But will she really be able to keep her nuptials a private affair? And can Killian find the solace he craves when there’s a world-famous actress in town?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have been absent from the fandom lately, and I woke up this morning with a burning desire to get back in. I miss everyone! To that end, I decided to challenge myself by posting a story I’ve been sitting on for months.
> 
> This is loosely (very loosely) based on the movie The Decoy Bride (starring Kelly MacDonald and David Tennant; it’s super cute and highly recommended). Brennan Jones is in this story, and, as it’s a no-magic AU, Tim Omundson will be playing that role.

“The wedding is off!” Emma cried out as she stormed into her apartment. She kicked off her black stilettos and combed her fingers through her long blonde hair. Her green eyes narrowed on her fiancé, ready for a fight.

Walsh heaved a sigh and mussed his shaggy brown hair. This was unfortunately something they’d already been through once, and he knew she was not cancelling the event because of anything he’d done. “Who do I have to fire?”

“I don’t know!” she cried. “But someone leaked the location to the press, and now it’s up on TMZ and all the paps are going to be there, and… it’s just ruined! Everything is ruined!”

“Calm down,” Walsh said, putting his hands on her arms. “It’s not ruined.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Emma growled as she pulled away. She stood with her back turned and rested her forehead in her right hand. She took a few deep, cleansing breaths before turning back around. “I think I’ve been pretty reasonable about this wedding. I agreed to your choices for the venue, the guest list, the menus… The one request I had was that we keep the press OUT. Now I’m not even getting that!” She stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not totally unreasonable to want this one day of my life to be private, at least for a little while!”

“Emma… come on, think about what you’re saying! You are the most popular movie star in the world! People want to see you get married! And if we would just work with the press instead of against them, we could charge whatever we wanted for exclusive rights. And then that publication will keep the others out. It’s a win-win!”

“No!” Emma cried out. “I have lived my life in the spotlight since I was sixteen! My wedding is going to be private.”

Walsh huffed again and walked to the kitchen. “Fine. You win. The wedding’s off. I’ll call Zelena tomorrow and have her make the cancellations.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, visibly deflating. She followed him to the kitchen and let him encircle her with his arms. “What now?”

“Elope?” Walsh asked. “We could go to Vegas.”

“Hell no. If we’re eloping I want it to be somewhere the press would never think we would go.”

“Some remote island? I could get on board with that. Some private beach in Tahiti?” His brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “We can ditch your big dress and get you a sexy little white bikini.”

Emma pulled away before he could slide his hands any lower. She was not in the mood. “No, there’s always someone with a camera there. We need to go somewhere crazy remote. Some island with less than 100 people where they don’t watch movies and no one knows who we are.”

* * *

 

“Good luck with that. We’re only the most well known couple in Hollywood. Biggest producer. World-famous actress. You’d have to find a place without internet to find somewhere that people don’t know us.”

“It’s got to exist.”

“Fine. I’ll ask Zelena to look into that too.”

“No, don’t,” Emma interjected. “Let me find a place.”

“Are you sure? She’s a wedding planner. This is her thing. She’ll probably know of a place.”

“I want to do this.” She stepped closer and threaded their fingers together. “I’ll find us a beautiful, romantic island where we can have the picture perfect,  _private,_ wedding of our dreams. Then we can have a beautiful honeymoon and escape the craziness of this life for a while.”

“Sounds perfect,” Walsh said, but his tone and lack of a smile set off Emma’s lie detector. She knew he’d rather have a flashy Hollywood wedding, but she was adamant on this point. No press. She would find a way. Once they got past this hurdle, their marriage would be perfect, and Emma would finally have the family she’d always wanted.

* * *

 

Killian stepped off the ferry and began the trek toward town. Last time he left, he told himself he’d never be coming back to Storybrooke Island. If only he’d known that he’d be returning three years later with his tail between his legs. He kept his head down and his eyes trained on the pavement as he walked. He’d been fortunate that the ferry driver was new and didn’t know him. And since it was the off season, there wasn’t much foot traffic in town. If he was lucky, he’d be able to traverse the entire two mile walk to the lighthouse at the other end of the island without anyone noticing him.

“Killian Jones! Is that you?”

He groaned before pasting on a smile and turning to face the woman currently running out of her establishment. He’d not even made it a tenth of the way. “Hello Granny.”

“I thought you were leaving us for good? Off to L.A. to make it big with your band. What are you doing back?”

He bowed low before the woman. “You must know that I can never stay away from you for very long, Lady Lucas.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the old woman said, turning her head away from him and waving at him dismissively. She chuffed and turned her head back, her steely blue eyes looking at him skeptically. “You’re here for  _him_  aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. I can’t leave him alone.”

“It would serve him right!”

“Regardless of his past misdeeds, he is still my father.”

“You’re too good,” she scoffed.

“I must admit that my motives are not entirely altruistic. I was not as successful as I had hoped I would be. I think it’s time to reevaluate my life and see if there is something more stable I could do to make my name.”

“Well, I forbid you from taking over for him in that lighthouse. You were not meant to waste away the rest of your life there.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” he said, bowing his head. “I should be going.”

“Tell your father I said hello.” She waved after him.

“Anything else?” he asked, looking back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“That he needs to get off of his sorry ass and come visit me every once in a while!” she yelled, but Killian kept on walking.

He had several similar encounters before finally reaching his destination. When he arrived at the house situated at the foot of the lighthouse, he didn’t bother knocking, but instead simply opened the door and walked inside. It was as if he’d never left. Nothing seemed to change on Storybrooke Island, other than the residents getting a little older every year.

“Killian?” he heard his father yell from the back of the small cottage.

“Aye,” he replied, raising his voice only slightly. Brennan Jones may be getting older, but his hearing was still as sharp as when he was a boy. Killian dropped his suitcase by the door and walked toward the kitchen, finding his father cleaning some fish. His nose crinkled at the pungent smell.

“You’ve been away too long!” Brennan said with a laugh as he spied his son's expression. He rubbed his forearm against the side of his nose and shook his head, his long gray waves shaking loose from the haphazard ponytail he’d secured them with. “Give it a week and you won’t even smell it anymore.”

Killian nodded. “That’s a nice catch there. Where’d you get it?”

“Will has a job on a fishing boat. He gets to purchase them at wholesale price.” 

“I see. And where is Will?”

“Out on the boat for another week.”

“And how is Natalie?”

Brennan’s eyes lit up as he smiled. “She’s pregnant! She’s visiting her parents on the mainland while Will’s away, but I’m sure you’ll see her soon.”

Killian forced a smile. Unlike himself, his younger brother had no delusions of grandeur and thus was living a happy existence with his pretty wife, spending their lives on one of the most remote islands in the Northeastern US. It was not a life Killian would have chosen, but after the disappointment of the last three years, he was starting to see the appeal.

He walked over to the sink and began washing his hands. “What can I do?”

* * *

 

“I’ve found it!” Emma said as soon as Walsh answered the phone.

_“Found what?”_

“The perfect place for our wedding! Storybrooke Island. It’s off the coast of Maine, accessible through only a 90-minute ferry ride or a 30 minute helicopter ride. It has a beautiful church that was built as a replica of one in Ireland. And the best part is, the population is only 60 people!”

_“Oh. Sounds… amazing.”_

Emma’s mood soured the moment she heard his response. “Can’t you be a little excited for this? You know how much this means to me. There’s no way the press can find us there, and even if they do, they’ll have a hard time getting there in droves. We can have the beautiful, picturesque wedding I’ve always dreamed of.”

_“You’re right, gorgeous. If this is what you want, I am happy to do it for you. When do we go?”_

“This weekend too soon?”

_“No. We can do that. I’ll make sure everything’s cancelled so we can leave Friday. I’ll let Zelena know so she can book the arrangements.”_

“No, Elsa’s already taken care of everything. No need for Zelena to trouble herself.”

_“Are we bringing anyone with us?”_

“Elsa is coming along. The reservation is in her name, and she’ll be my maid of honor and witness. You’ll need to bring someone too. Robin?”

_“No, Robin and I had a little falling out. Look, let’s not worry about me. I’m sure someone there can be our second witness. I don’t need anyone else but you.”_

“Okay.” Emma breathed a contented sigh. “We’re finally doing this. Are you excited?”

_“Hey, babe, listen. I gotta go. We’ll chat more later.”_

“Oh… okay. See you tonight?”

_“Maybe. I think I’m gonna have a late night again.”_

Emma felt her lie detector alarm go off once more, but bit her tongue. “Okay, well, call me and let me know for sure.”

_“Will do. Bye babe.”_

“Bye…” Emma said, though he’d already hung up.

* * *

 

“Did you hear?” Granny said to Killian one morning a few days after he’d returned.

“Apparently not,” Killian replied.

“Some location scout is coming to check out the old church. They’re thinking about making a movie here. They even went ahead and rented out the place to ‘test the lighting’ or something like that. Could it be anyone you know?”

Killian laughed. “Not likely. LA is a big place, and I didn’t really spent time around the movie crowd.”

“Maybe you should introduce yourself when they’re here. You’re a pretty boy. You could make it in movies.”

“Not sure that’s where I want to focus my efforts.”

“Come on…” Granny teased. “Don’t waste those baby blues. Those are your money makers right there.”

“If I change my mind, I’ll make sure and hire you as my agent.”

“Damn right you will! I’ll ride your coattails all the way off this island!

* * *

 

Stepping off the ferry, Emma was transported back in time. “Wow. It’s so beautiful here! So untouched. Did you see the seals on the beach?”

“Yeah. It’s great,” Walsh said. “Now where is our car?”

“No cars allowed on the island,” Elsa said with a smirk, her crystal blue eyes glancing down at Walsh’s custom-made Italian leather loafers.

“So how do people get around?”

“You’ve got legs,” Emma teased, “start walking.” She stacked her overnight bag on top of the matching rolling suitcase and secured it in place before rolling it alongside as she began the trek. She’d already plotted the course to Granny’s Inn, the only place in town with lodgings for rent. It was a ten minute walk from the ferry. The cool air and calm atmosphere invigorated her. Her hair was pulled up under a beanie and she wore an oversized coat to protect against the chill. There were no cameras around for miles. She was anonymous for the first time in a long time, and finally felt at peace.

They’d only been walking a few minutes when Walsh began to complain. “Can we at least get a golf cart or something?”

Emma stopped and smiled back at him. “You’ve become spoiled. Come on, stretch those legs a little!” She turned her head to look at the beautifully blue sky. “Isn’t this place wonderful?”

Walsh said nothing but continued his trek. They reached Granny’s shortly after, and were surprised to come upon the proprietor herself standing in the yard, talking with a tall, dark haired man with brilliant blue eyes. Emma startled at the sight of him. He was gorgeous! Was he another actor? He was no one she could place, but she felt there was no way this man was simply just an inhabitant of such a secluded island as this.

“Good afternoon,” he said, the lilting tones of his British accent lending further credence to her theory that he was famous. He returned her gaze, and she felt suddenly very warm and exposed. She chastised herself for this sudden attraction to another man. She was here to get married!

Emma quickly broke her stare, and Elsa took her cue and jumped in, discussing their reservation. Granny bid the unfairly attractive man farewell and led them inside to procure keys and show them to their rooms.

Granny’s Inn had four rooms available, and Elsa had rented all of them to reduce any chance that a photographer or anyone else could crash the wedding. She’d engaged a professional wedding photographer that was coming in the morning to sign an ironclad NDA before taking wedding photos. He would not be releasing the photos to anyone other than Elsa. Emma would then review them and select a few to be released to the press at a later date.

The freedom she felt in this remote location could not be overstated. The moment she reached her room, she flopped onto the bed and sighed contentedly.

* * *

 

Killian took a seat in the diner and tried to forget the gorgeous pair of green eyes he'd seen. Although she was bundled up in a beanie and large jacket, he felt like he recognized her from somewhere. He just couldn't place it. Did he perhaps meet her when he was living in L.A.? It was a mystery, but one he hoped to have a chance to puzzle out more.

He was disrupted from his thoughts by a squeal as a blur of brown and red hair tackled him, pinning him to the side of the booth.

“Killian Jones!” The girl cried as she released her hold and permitted him to sit up. “I can't believe you're back!”

“Aye Ruby, I am,” he replied, straightening his clothes. “How are you?”

“In college now,” she said with a smile, bumping shoulders with him. “Not a little girl anymore.” She batted her eyelashes at him. Lashes that framed a striking pair of hazel green eyes. Complimented by smooth, creamy skin and a tall, lithe figure. Ruby Lucas was gorgeous, and she knew it. When he'd last been to the island, she'd been working in the diner and finishing high school online. Now she was a 21 year-old college student, and very clearly hitting on him.

Killian cleared his throat. “What are you studying?”

“I'm still a sophomore, so just working on my prerequisites.”

“And do you still work in the diner?”

She laughed and playfully hit him on the chest. “No way! I live on the mainland now, but when Granny told me you were back, I had to come see for myself. I came over on the ferry this morning.” Her gaze changed from playful to lusty in an instant. “Are you staying upstairs?”

“Ah… no. I'm staying with my father for now.”

“Oh boo,” Ruby said, exaggerating the pout on her lower lip. “I was hoping we could find somewhere to be alone together.” She moved closer and put her hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. “I know you're shy,” she continued, her voice a near whisper. “And I know last time you were here I was a little girl, but I'm not little anymore. I'm a woman, and I know what I want. And, Killian Jones, I want you.” She squeezed his thigh, the tips of her fingers barely grazing his crotch and causing him to jump.

Carefully, he removed her hand from his thigh. “Ruby, you are a beautiful woman, but I just got out of a bad relationship, and I'm not ready to be with anyone else yet.”

“I don't mind being your rebound,” she replied with a giggle. He gave her a wary stare, to which she responded with a full-on laugh. “Killian! Come on! I'm 21 and still in school. I don't want anything serious. But I have had a crush on you for as long as I can remember!” She threw her hands up to emphasize her last point before her eyes took a predatory gleam and she leaned in to whisper once more. “The first time I masturbated, I was thinking of you.” He felt a flare in his cheeks at her words. “I just want to know if you are as good in bed as I imagine.” She rubbed against him, deliberately pushing her breasts into his arm. Killian bit back a groan. “You can deny it all you want, but your body is betraying you.” She glanced down at his pants, where the beginnings of an erection stood out. “I'm here all weekend. You know where to find me.” She slid out of the booth, adjusting her short skirt as she stood, and giving him a glimpse of her lacy black underwear.

Once she was gone, he exhaled a deep breath and took a sip of his coffee, trying to calm down. Had he met a girl like Ruby in L.A., he probably would have gladly taken her up on her offer, even if she was 10 years his junior. But Ruby from Storybrooke Island was different. He'd known her since she was very young, and he saw her in many ways as a little sister. Reflecting on her words now, he felt ashamed for not stopping her sooner. He felt like a dirty old man. He sighed once more and scrubbed his hand down his face, waiting for his hard-on to go down.

Once he felt able to move, he stood and exited the diner, leaving cash on the table for his coffee. He’d suddenly lost his appetite. The entire walk home, he pondered the face of the woman he’d seen outside the inn. He was almost to the lighthouse when it hit him. She was Emma Swan! All thoughts of his encounter with Ruby fled from his mind as he raced inside. He needed to look her up to confirm his suspicion.

He was still staring at his iPad 20 minutes later, not believing his eyes.

“What are you looking at, Killian?”

“Dad!” he jumped, not having heard his father enter the room.

“Who is Emma Swan? She’s quite pretty,” Brennan said.

“She’s an actress, Dad. Surely you’ve heard of her? She was in the ‘Savior’ trilogy. And that thriller about the madman that takes two women hostage. The one where they fight back and have to escape his house of horrors.”

“Never heard of her. It’s not like we have a movie theater here.”

“Well, for some reason, she’s on the island, staying at Granny’s.”

“What would a movie star be doing on Storybrooke Island?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think maybe she’s getting married in the old church.”

“In the church? But it’s the off season! And I still don’t understand why some Hollywood couple would want to get married here.”

“According to a couple articles I’ve read, she’s canceled her wedding twice because she wants to keep the press out. So it would make sense that she might prefer to come here and have a private ceremony. There’s limited access to the island. It makes for a good hideaway.”

“She’s been trying to escape the press?”

“Aye.”

“I bet they’d pay a lot of money to know that she was here now.”

“What are you going to do, Dad? Are you going to call up TMZ and tell them she’s here?”

“What’s TMZ?”

“Exactly. Let’s leave her be. If she wants a quiet wedding away from the horde, then she should have it.”

“Right…” Brennan trailed off. “I’ll just be off to the kitchen to get started on dinner. How would you like your fish prepared tonight?”

Killian suppressed a groan. After just a few days on the island, he was growing tired of eating fish every night.

* * *

 

Elsa had booked all the rooms at Granny’s Inn, but Emma assumed only two of those four would actually be occupied. So it came as a shock to her that Walsh insisted on staying in a separate room.

“Come on,” she said, standing in the doorway of the room he'd claimed. “This doesn't make any sense. Let's enjoy some quiet time together.”

“I'm really not in the mood,” Walsh grumbled.

“I don't understand, babe. We're getting married tomorrow. Aren't you excited? This is what we wanted.”

“No, Emma!” Walsh snapped. “It's not what I wanted. It's what  _you_  wanted. What you've insisted on, even though you know how important this wedding is for my career.”

“Your  _career_?” Emma spat back. “Is that all this relationship is for you? A career move?!” She charged on him and shoved his shoulders. “I thought you loved me?!”

“Shit… that came out wrong. But you know the business we work in! When everyone finds out we ran off to get married in secret, there are going to be a lot of people pissed off that there wasn't a wedding for them to be invited to. People we can't really afford to piss off.”

“Fuck them,” Emma said. “They're not really our friends if they don't understand the importance of this for me.”

“They don't have to understand, Emma. Dammit, don't you see that?! It's not about us. It's about them feeling slighted. And then the next time I need a picture bankrolled, will these people pass me over because I didn't invite them to my wedding?”

“That's ridiculous, Walsh.”

“No, that's business. You're the one being ridiculous! Insisting on a private wedding?! What the fuck are you thinking? You know we don't get to have private lives. That's the trade-off.” He huffed a breath and turned his back to her before muttering something she couldn’t make out.

“What’d you say?”

He turned back to face her. “I said ‘Zelena gets this.’”

“What the hell does Zelena have to do with any of this? She's a wedding planner.” She stepped back and scrutinized him. His face looked suddenly pained, as if he didn’t like her belittling Zelena. Emma suddenly thought back to the past few months. How Walsh was always working late. How he was always speaking to Zelena. He’d volunteered to be the main point of contact for their wedding planner, without any prompting. Emma’d been glad for it at the time as it wasn’t something she wanted to deal with.

“You're sleeping with her, aren't you?”

Walsh stared at her for a full minute before replying. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Emma, come on. Let's not get distracted.”

“No! Lets! Answer me! Are. You. Sleeping. With. Her?”

He groaned fiercely. “Fine! You win. Yes. I've been sleeping with her. She gets this business. She understands. She's not some spoiled starlet who has had no true grip on reality.”

“That's what you really think of me?!” Emma reeled back and punched Walsh in square between the eyes. He doubled over, cradling his head in his hands.

“You stupid bitch!” he cried out, his voice muffled behind his hands.

“What the hell is going on?!” Elsa cried out, charging into the room.

Emma loomed over her fiancé. “Walsh is cheating on me. With our wedding planner!”

“Oh grow up, Emma.” Walsh stood and looked at her, his eyes already blackening and his nose bleeding. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the dresser and wiped away some of the blood. “No one is faithful in Hollywood. She’s just a good fuck.”

“How can you say that?” Emma cried. “I loved you!”

“You’re so naive. It’s part of your charm. You and me, getting married was a business move. It’s going to skyrocket your career and give me even better name recognition. Love wasn’t part of the equation.”

“Get out of here.” Emma bit her cheek to keep her tears from spilling. She had to keep it together until he left. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“Good luck with that, sweetheart,” he sneered. “You won’t be able to step foot on a set without my permission.”

Walsh’s head suddenly snapped back again as Elsa punched him in the chin. “Get the fuck out of here, Walsh,” she said, shaking her hand. “Your chauvinistic bullshit doesn’t fly anymore. Here,” she dug into her pocket and threw a business card at him. “That’s the number for the company that runs the helicopter rides to and from the island. Call them and get the hell away from here before I hit you again and break your jaw.”

He bent down and picked up the card before grabbing his still-packed suitcase and stomping out the door. The second he was gone and Elsa closed the door, Emma broke down in tears.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Killian walked to Granny’s for breakfast, as was his usual routine. In his short time back on the island, he’d learned that if he didn’t keep himself busy, he would go stir crazy just sitting around the house. He supposed he’d need to see if Will’s boat was taking on new guys so he’d at least have some employment. 

 

After entering the diner and taking his usual seat, he was waited on by Granny herself, who poured him a coffee while scrutinizing him with a raised brow.

 

“Is there something amiss with my appearance?” he finally asked after he could no longer take her glare.

 

“Something happened with those visitors upstairs,” she replied, her voice low. 

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Well… you know I don’t like to gossip…” 

 

“Naturally,” Killian responded with a smirk. One of Granny’s favorite pastimes was gossiping about the tourists. She hated when autumn came because the tourist population dwindled and she had less fodder for discussion.

 

“There was some big shouting match last night, and later someone caught a chopper ride back to the mainland.”

 

“So they’re gone then?” 

 

She shook her head. “No one’s checked out yet. Whoever left wasn’t the girl who rented the rooms. But,” she said with a sigh, “I guess we’ll have to wait to see who’s still here. Sun’s hardly out. They’re probably not awake.”

 

This new information piqued Killian’s interest. He couldn’t help but look up more information on Emma Swan the night before. The more he learned about her fiancé, the less he liked her choice. Walsh Ozman was a slimy Hollywood producer who appeared to treat everyone with disdain. Killian could not understand why Emma Swan, who, according to her former castmates, was a genuinely nice person, would choose to marry a jerk like Ozman. The news that there’d been a fight last night made him think that maybe she’d finally realized he was no good for her. 

 

He shook his head at his fanciful notions. It wasn’t like she would be interested in himself. He’d admired Emma Swan’s work in the past, and couldn’t help but want to know her after the things he’d read about her the night before. But, in all likelihood, she would be leaving the island later today, never interacting with him again.

 

Granny headed back to kitchen, preparing him a breakfast that he’d never actually ordered, and he took advantage of the quiet to scroll through the news on his phone. He was distracted from his reading a few minutes later by the jingle of the bell over the door. A squirrely looking man walked in, with tanned skin, close-cropped curly hair, and a beard to match. The color was more gray than the black it had likely been in his youth. 

 

He met Killian’s eye and smiled. “Hello, I’m looking for the proprietor of this establishment.”

 

“You found her,” Granny said from the doorway of the kitchen. “What can I do for you?”

 

“I was hoping you might have a room available for rent.”

 

“Sorry, we are all booked up, but try back again later today. I have a feeling something might open up.”

 

“Thank you,” the man replied. “Let me give you my card. If you find yourself with a vacancy, I would appreciate a call.”

 

Granny took the card and pocketed it without looking at it. “If you want to sit down I can bring you some coffee and make you something to eat. None of the other restaurants on the island are open at this hour.”

 

“Thank you madam,” the man said, taking a seat at the booth directly adjacent to Killian’s. He sat with his back to the door, effectively facing the other man with only the barrier of a bench seat between them.

 

Granny returned to the kitchen, and, as Killian suspected he would, the other man began speaking to him.

 

“Do you happen to know anything about the patrons currently staying here?”

 

“Even if I did,” Killian responded, “I doubt Mrs. Lucas would appreciate me discussing them with someone else.”

 

The other man stood and joined Killian in his booth. “Forgive my impertinence. My name is Sidney Glass, and I’m a freelance journalist. I received a tip that there may be someone of interest currently staying on the island. I could pay handsomely for any information that might help me find who I’m looking for.”

 

Killian stared at the other man. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like some solace while I drink my coffee.”

 

Effectively dismissed, Sidney Glass stood. “Please make my apologies to Mrs. Lucas. I’ve just remembered a previous engagement.” He left the diner, and Killian had to fight back to urge to run upstairs and warn the lovely lady Swan that the press had somehow found her here.

* * *

 

Laying in her bed, Emma sank deeper into the pillow and groaned. She’d cried so much the night before. She was mad at Walsh, of course, for cheating on her. And at herself for being so blind. And at Zelena for sleeping with a man she  _ knew  _ was engaged to another woman. And herself for being so blind. She had spent the whole night crying and drinking the champagne that was supposed to be for her post-wedding toast.

 

Elsa had been by her side for most of the evening. Emma was so grateful to have her friend here. Elsa was technically her manager, but over the years they’d worked together, their relationship had evolved to be so much more. Elsa was like a sister to Emma. As terrible as she felt this morning, she would be much worse off if she hadn’t had her friend with her.

 

A few minutes earlier, Elsa had offered to go downstairs and fetch some coffee before they started making plans for their next steps. Emma sat up slowly, longing for the caffeine that would help her feel more normal.

 

A knock came at the door and, before Emma could get out of bed, Elsa stepped inside the room.  “That was fast,” Emma remarked. She then caught sight of her friend’s empty hands and sighed in realization. “Because you didn’t actually get it. Where’s the coffee?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Elsa said as she closed the door. “I went downstairs to get it, but Sidney Glass was down there!”

 

Emma paled. “Shit! What the hell is he doing here?! Did he see you? Could he be here for another reason?”

 

“No, he didn’t see me. I don’t think he’s here for another reason. The cute guy from yesterday was down there, and Sidney asked him for information on the people who were staying here.”

 

“Cute guy from yesterday?”

 

“Yes, Emma,” Elsa replied with an annoyed look. “You know. The one with the dark hair and blue eyes. We met him outside before we checked in.”

 

“Oh yeah. Did he give anything away to Glass?”

 

“Thankfully no. But you know Sidney! He won’t give up so easily. Short of confining ourselves to this room, I don’t know how we’re going to escape him.”

 

“That might not even work," Emma said with a sigh. "If he gets wind that there was a helicopter departure yesterday, he might talk to the pilot and find out Walsh was the passenger.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “Oh hell. What are we going to do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Elsa replied, looking defeated.

 

“I’ll get massacred by the press if they get wind of the breakup this way.”

 

Her friend stared at her disbelievingly. “Wait, you  _ want _ them to think you and Walsh are still together?”

 

“On principle, no. Walsh is a slimy son of a bitch and I don’t want my name associated with him any longer than it has to be. But in practice, I don’t have much of a choice until I can get back home. If the story leaks that we broke up and then I come out two weeks later saying he’s a misogynistic asshole, I just look like a jealous ex.”

 

“I hate to be Debbie Downer, but what’s to stop Walsh from doing that now? He’s most likely back in LA today.”

 

“He’ll want to time to spin it.” Emma paced the small length of the room. “Fuck…”

 

“What if…” Elsa began, but stopped herself short, snapping her mouth closed.

 

Emma gave her a curious look. “No, go on. Any idea will help brainstorm.”

 

Elsa stepped closer to her friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let me get through this before you interrupt.” She took a deep breath and walked the same path Emma had a moment before. “What if we beat Sidney at his own game? Let him think there was a wedding today. He publishes it, but then when the breakup comes out next week, he ends up getting discredited.”

 

Emma looked at her friend with a furrowed brow. “How would we do that?”

 

“We stage the wedding with a decoy groom. Sidney thinks we don’t know he’s here, so he’s going to try and get pictures surreptitiously. He knows how much you want to keep the press out, so he’s going to try and be sneaky. We make sure he only gets photos from the back. We keep your veil on the entire 1ceremony so it’s not entirely clear that you’re in the pictures. Worst case, he goes to press with inconclusive photos.”

 

“Who would we get to be the decoy groom? There’s only 60 people on this island, and the average age is 50. I doubt we’ll find anyone who looks like Walsh, even from behind.”

 

“We’ve already found him! The cute guy. He’s about the same height as Walsh. He’s got dark hair. I brought my shears with me. I can cut his hair to look like Walsh’s. He doesn’t have to be an exact match. Just enough to make Sidney think it’s legit. Once Sidney thinks he has his story, he’ll leave the island.”

 

“I don’t know…” Emma replied. “Maybe we’d be better to just stay in the room today.”

 

“And what about tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that? Sidney Glass hid out in the attic of Regina Mills’ pool house for six weeks to get pictures of her when she was having an affair with Graham Humbert! He doesn’t give up easy.”

 

“You make a good point.” Emma sat down on the edge of the bed in a huff. “Is cute guy still downstairs?”

 

Elsa smiled in triumph. “I’ll go see.”

 

“Bring back coffee,” Emma said before her friend left the room entirely.

* * *

 

Killian was just finishing his eggs with he noticed an attractive blonde woman approaching from his left. Not the blonde he’d secretly been hoping to see, but her companion. 

 

He looked up and met her steely blue eyes. “May I help you?”

 

“Do you mind if I sit?” she asked, her tone business-like.

 

“By all means.” He gestured to the bench seat on the opposite side of his booth.

 

She took a seat and extended her hand across the table. “Elsa Frost.”

 

“Killian Jones,” he replied, taking her hand in his.

 

“I’ll get down to business, Mr. Jones. I represent a client that I’d rather not name in public, although I suspect you may be aware of who she is.”

 

“I had an inkling…” He was intrigued by what this woman could want.

 

“My client has a request of a somewhat… unusual nature. I was hoping you could join us for a cup of coffee upstairs to discuss in a more private setting.”

 

Killian sat back and stared for a short moment, pretending the think on the idea. He held out just long enough to temper his excitement about a chance to meet Emma Swan in person. Leaning forward once more, he smiled and said “How can I say no to that?” Standing, he walked to the bar, stepped around the counter, took out three paper cups, and filled them from the carafe. “Do either you or your client take cream and sugar?”

 

Five minutes later, Killian stood alone in one of the rooms in the Inn, waiting on Elsa to retrieve her client. Part of him could not believe he would be face-to-face with Emma Swan in a matter of minutes. It all seemed so surreal. To calm himself, he stared out the window of the room and watched the seals play on a rocky outcropping. It had been a long time since he’d just watched the seals, and he quickly became mesmerized. He did not realize the two women had entered the room until Elsa cleared her throat.

 

He turned and faced Emma Swan, his heart immediately breaking for her. Her red-rimmed eyes indicated she’d been crying recently. Her beautiful blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she wore a baggy cream-colored sweater with leggings and thick socks. However, even with her casual attire and tired appearance, he found her more beautiful than the publicity photos he’d been looking through the night before.

 

They stood in awkward silence for a moment longer before Emma extended her hand. “Mr. Jones, thank you for speaking with us. I’m Emma Swan.”

 

He took her hand and shook it dazedly. “Of course, Miss Swan. It’s a pleasure…” he trailed off.

 

“So…” Emma began, seemingly just as much at a loss for words as he was. “The reason…”

 

Before the situation could become more uncomfortable, Elsa jumped in. “Emma came to the island to get married, but her fiancé had to leave due to an emergency. However, we don’t want the press to know he is gone. Surely you’ve heard of the struggles Emma has had with the press?”

 

“I have,” he replied.

 

“And I think you are aware that there is a journalist currently on the island, looking for information about this very situation?”

 

“I am.”

 

“We have a proposition for you. We would like Mr. Glass to leave this island thinking he has photographs of a wedding between Ms. Swan and Walsh Ozman. As Walsh is not here, we are in need of a stand-in.”

 

“A stand-in?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“But I don’t look like Walsh Ozman.”

 

“Not from the front, no. But with a little trim of your hair, I can make you look like him from behind. And that’s all we need.”

 

“I don’t have a suit.”

 

“You look to be the same size as Walsh, and I have the wedding clothes with me in a separate bag. I can do some minor alterations.”

 

“I’m still not sure about this…” Killian said, feeling his right hand fly up to scratch behind his ear, his old nervous tick.

 

“This was a stupid idea,” Emma suddenly said. “Let’s just give it up, Elsa. Let Sidney run a story about how Emma Swan can’t keep a man. It’s not like they’ve never said that before.”

 

Killian felt anger flare in his chest at her defeated tone. “Now hold on, lass, I didn’t say ‘no.’” Her head snapped up and she met his gaze for the first time that morning. “I’m willing to help.”

 

“What do you want in exchange?” Emma said, her eyes narrowed.

 

“It would be bad form to require something for helping out a lady in distress.”

 

“Bad form? Lady in distress? Where are you from? The nineteenth century?”

 

“No, I simply possess a broad vocabulary and enjoy using it,” he replied, a bit put out by her comment.

 

“Nevertheless,” Elsa interjected, “you will be compensated for your time. And for signing a standard Non-Disclosure Agreement stating that you will not share the particulars of this situation with anyone without first obtaining mine or Miss Swan’s express permission.”

 

“I’ll sign an NDA if it makes you feel better, but I have no intention of telling anyone.”

 

“We’ll take that in writing. Please stay here. I’m going to return to my room and pull up an agreement on my laptop. Are you comfortable with providing an electronic signature? Otherwise I will need to see if Mrs. Lucas has a printer I can use.”

 

“Electronic is fine.”

 

“Great. Why don’t you and Emma stay here and get acquainted while I take care of that?”

 

Elsa exited the room and Emma looked at him nervously. Killian groaned quietly to himself. What the hell was he getting into?

* * *

 

Emma looked up at the attractive, blue-eyed stranger before her. Standing even closer to him now, she noticed his broad chest and muscular arms. As her eye traveled down his arm to observe his strong, elegant hands, she felt a jolt of lust. Her traitorous mind couldn’t help but think about how it would feel to have those hands slide down her back or dig into her thigh as he… 

 

Killian cleared his throat and looked at her with one eyebrow raised and she realized she was biting her lip whilst staring at his hands. She blushed and shook her head to clear her dazed mind. What was this strong attraction she felt to him? She’d noticed it first yesterday, but in the wake of Walsh’s betrayal, it was as if her carnal mind wanted to bed someone else in retaliation. 

 

“So,” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and hugging herself tightly, “do you live on this island?”

 

“Aye, though I only just returned after living in L.A. for five years.”

 

“Really? What were you doing there?”

 

“Trying and failing to make it big as a musician.”

 

“What do you play?”

 

“Guitar.”

 

“Are you any good?”

 

“I think so.”

 

“Then why was it a failed endeavor?”

 

“A combination of things. Some of my bandmates were less than cooperative. And we had some creative differences. And it is a rather difficult business to make it big in. I think we just didn’t get our big break, and I tired of the struggle.”

 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it would still have been a struggle if you had ‘made it big.’ Take it from me, fame is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

 

“Do you mind me asking why you were so against the press at your wedding? Seems like you made the problem worse for yourself by fighting against them.”

 

“You’re probably right,” Emma sighed. She moved over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. “When I was a kid, I was a big nobody. A foster kid who jumped from home to home and never had a family of her own. Then, when I was fifteen, I got a foster mother who wanted to be a stage mom, and she took me to every audition she possibly could. I found out that I was  _ good _ at acting. For the first time in my life, I had something that made me unique, you know?” 

 

“Yeah,” he replied in a near whisper. She looked up at him to see an earnest stare. He seemed truly mournful for the child she’d been.

 

She sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “So, I got a part in a TV show, and that was my big break. But Victoria, that was my foster mom, she pocketed all the money I was making. And she was greedy, selling me out for appearances or ‘exclusive’ interviews. The press fed off of it. And I rebelled, which only made them chase me more. By the time I was seventeen, I couldn’t go anywhere without being hounded by them. And, to add to my trouble, I was flat broke because Victoria wouldn’t give me any of the money I made. It was ridiculous. I was making more money than I’d ever dreamed I could, but I still had to steal tampons from the drug store.”

 

“And then you got caught,” Killian filled in.

 

“Yeah… I got arrested for shoplifting. But, the silver lining to that is that I met my lawyer, David Nolan, and he helped me file for emancipation and sue Victoria for the money she was keeping from me.”

 

“Did you get it back?” 

 

“Not a penny. She’d spent most of it as fast as I made it. At least, since I was emancipated, I was able to keep what I made going forward. But by then I had a reputation with the press, and they expected me to be a bad girl. Every move I made was scrutinized. And I’ve never been able to shake that, even now, ten years later. I just wanted to have one day where they weren’t judging my every move. Where I could just be myself.”

 

“That makes perfect sense.” Emma looked up at him again, and found nothing more than understanding in his eyes.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, “for… getting it.”

 

“Well, my story is different, but we have some of the same themes.”

 

“Yeah? What’s your story?”

 

“Well,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was born in England, and for a few years it was nice. Mum and Dad and my older brother Liam. Then Mum got sick, and she passed before I was five.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He waved his dismissively. “Thank you, but it was a long time ago. What hurt more was that not long after that, Dad abandoned Liam and I. He was part of a auto theft ring, and when one of his partners was caught, he ran to avoid getting arrested himself. Just up and left us one night.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“We went to live with a distant relative. Uncle John never had any kids of his own and I believe he rather resented us. He left us to fend for ourselves quite often. Then, just as I was entering secondary school, John was contacted by our father. He’d cleared his name and was living in the States and wanted us to join him. John shipped us off on the first flight to Boston and we haven’t seen him since. When we arrived, we learned Dad had remarried and was living here on the island with his wife and their son, William.”

 

“Isn’t that…”

 

“The anglicized form of Liam? Aye. Believe me, my brother and I were right pissed off at Brennan Jones for essentially trying to replace us. But we eventually came around. Not for him, but for Will and his mother, Angie.”

 

“Are they still here?”

 

“Liam moved back home a few years back, but Dad and Will are still here.”

 

“Angie…?”

 

“Died last year.”

 

“Damn. Your dad’s a widow twice over? That’s fucked up.”

 

“The old man’s cursed.”

 

“So why did you come back here? Why not join your older brother?”

 

“Dad hasn’t been the same since Angie died. And Will works on a fishing boat and has a young wife and a child on the way, so he can’t be around as much.”

 

“So you came back to care for the dad that abandoned you when you were little?”

 

“He’s a right bastard, but he’s still my Dad.”

 

“You’re a good man, Killian Jones.”

 

“I hope so,” he replied, his eyes glassy.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later Killian stood in a room with Elsa, wearing the suit Walsh Ozman was meant to wear at his wedding. He was still struggling with the idea that he would be spending the day pretending to marry Emma Swan.

 

“This fit isn’t too bad,” Killian said, tugging the sleeves of the jacket down. Although he and Walsh were roughly the same height, his limbs seemed to be longer than those of the other man’s. 

 

“I think I need to take the hems out an inch on the jacket and pants, then you should be good,” Elsa said. “I wonder if Mrs. Lucas has a sewing machine I can use. It’d be much easier if I didn’t have to do this by hand.”

 

“I believe she does, but truly, you needn’t go to the effort. Who’s going to notice if the suit is slightly ill-fitting?”

 

“It has to fit you like a glove,” Elsa replied. “Sidney isn’t going to buy the story if there’s any indication that you aren’t Walsh, and Walsh would  _ never _ wear an ill-fitting suit, no matter how slight the problem.” She stepped back and took him in. “Thank god I kept the suit with me instead of letting him pack it,” she muttered to herself. Looking up to his face again she smiled. “Go ahead and change out of it while I run down to see if I can borrow the sewing machine.”

 

She was out the door before Killian could say a word. He removed the suit and once more donned his jeans and henley. As he laid the garments back on the bed, marveling at the expense of them, he heard a knock at the door. 

 

He surmised the visitor must be Emma, since Elsa would have charged into the room after a perfunctory knock. However, when he opened the door, he was met with the face of a smaller man with red curly hair, wearing a  _ very _ ill-fitting suit and thick glasses. “Can I help you?” Killian asked.

 

“Hello, yes, sir. My name is Archie Hopper, and I’ll be the officiant for the ceremony today. I need you to fill out some paperwork.” He handed Killian a small stack of paperwork. 

 

Killian held his hands up and refused to take the documents. “I’m not sure that’s necessary…” he trailed off.

 

“Don’t worry. Mrs. Frost explained everything to me. This is just a formality.” He pushed the documents in the other man’s direction once more

 

“Are you sure?” Killian replied, reluctantly taking the pages and thumbing through them. 

 

“Indeed,” Hopper responded. “We want this to be convincing, do we not?” The man leaned forward and winked, the gesture oddly magnified by his eyewear.

 

“Erm… yes.” Killian moved to the desk in the room and took up a pen, beginning to fill out the forms. 

 

“I’ll need to see your ID as well,” Hopper said.

 

“Sure.” Absently, Killian fished his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted his license. It was still his California ID. He hadn’t yet obtained a new Maine driver’s license. He handed the card to the other man.

 

Hopper took a picture of the front and back of Killian’s ID and placed the card on the desk while Killian continued to complete the documents. He was done a moment later, and Hopper gathered everything up and turned to leave. The door opened just as he approached it and Elsa entered.

 

“Mr. Hopper. Is everything in order?”

 

“Oh yes, Miss Frost. Quite so. I was just speaking with our groom for a moment before the ceremony.” He said groom in a slightly mocking tone, and Elsa gave him a tight smile in reply.

 

“Remember the agreement you signed, Mr. Hopper,” she said in a commanding voice.

 

“Of course, Miss Frost. I’ll just head down to the church now and meet you there later today.”

 

“Thank you. And, if you would be so kind, the photographer is also downstairs in the common room. If you could point him in the direction of the church, I will be very appreciative.”

 

“I’ll do you one better and walk with him,” Hopper said with a silly smile.

 

“Thank you Mr. Hopper. I’ll see you at the church.”

 

Hopper thankfully knew a dismissal when he saw one, and left the room. Elsa turned back to Killian, donning a pair of shears. “Alright Mr. Jones, are you ready for your haircut?”

* * *

 

Emma walked down the aisle of the picturesque church. She took her place next to a tall man with dark hair who, after Elsa’s intervention, looked so much like Walsh from behind that Emma had been momentarily fooled into thinking that the last 18 hours had been a bad dream. Which of course made her feel like crying all over again. The only thing holding her tears at bay was her fear of ruining the beautiful makeup Elsa had applied an hour earlier. This was supposed to be her perfect, private, wedding that she could share with the people who meant the most to her. Instead she was play acting with a stranger. She felt incredibly grateful that they’d decided to keep the veil over her face, thereby masking her expression of pain.

 

“Shall we proceed with the ceremony?” the kind man named Mr. Hopper asked, looking to Elsa. This was Emma’s first time meeting the man, and she found his sweet disposition calming.

 

“Yes,” Elsa replied curtly. She’d ensured Emma that, after a thorough search, there were no bugs in the church, but just to be sure, they’d decided that they would play out the ceremony as realistically as possible. As far as the walls of the building were concerned, Emma Swan and Walsh Ozman were being married that day. Still, Emma kept her eye on her friend as she paced the perimeter of the small room, keeping an eye out for Sidney.

 

The church was beautiful, with stone arches, an intricate wooden ceiling, and lovely stained-glass windows. The structure of the room worked to their advantage, as the ceremony took place up front, in the chancel, which was cut off from the rest of the room. The triptych of stained-glass windows behind the altar, while allowing plenty of light into the room, were impossible to see through. There was absolutely no way a person could get a picture of their faces without being in the room with them.

 

Speaking of which, the photographer they’d hired stepped gracefully around them, quietly snapping pictures. Emma had wanted to turn him away, but Elsa had felt it would be better to proceed as planned with him, so that there was one less person in on the secret. She had told the man that the couple was extremely private and did not want any close up shots, and that there should be no pictures taken of the kiss.

 

Emma disagreed with her friend on that point, but the entire plan made her so nervous that she was ready to agree to anything just to get through the day. She only needed to get through a few more minutes, and then hopefully Sidney would get his picture and Emma could return to her room to hide out in peace.

 

They’d just been declared man and wife when everything went to hell. A sound of breaking glass came from behind them, and a man awkwardly fell through a panel of one of the other windows along the side of the building. Everyone looked over their shoulders to see the face of Sidney Glass trying extract himself from an awkward, and likely painful, position.

 

Elsa immediately stepped into action, yelling out “what the hell?!” as loud as she could while crossing the room toward the man. Emma noticed that Killian was still looking at the man and nearly about to turn around and go help him. Her internal alarm bells screamed as images of Sidney discovering the whole story and using it to destroy what remained of her reputation flashed through her head.

 

Roughly she grabbed Killian’s arm, still wearing her veil, and pulled him toward a door off to the side of the chancel.

 

“What are you doing?” he protested. “That man’s bleeding! He needs help!”

 

“That’s Sidney Glass, and he deserves to bleed!” she hissed as she yanked open a door and shoved Killian inside before following him in. It took a few tries to get the door to close because the damned lace train, which had seemed so sensible when she purchased her dress, was now getting stuck in the door jamb. She finally extracted her skirts and pulled hard to close the door behind her. Her body immediately collided with Killian’s. She had a momentary lapse in judgment, where she couldn’t think about anything other than how firm his chest felt and how good he smelled. But then she came to her senses and whirled around.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispered. “Back up and give me a little space!”

 

“Sorry to say, love, but there isn’t any space to give you.” He reached above his head and pulled a cord that was connected to a single light bulb. When the dim light flooded the area, she realized what he meant. She’d thought they were going into a hallway, or at least an office, but it turned out that they stood pressed tightly together in a cleaning closet.

 

“Oh fuck,” Emma cursed.

 

“Oh fuck indeed,” Killian echoed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely friends! I am sorry for the two week hiatus for this story, but life got in the way. I am happy to bring A new update today. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, please note the change in rating. I accidentally wrote some smut.

"What the hell are you doing?” Killian asked as he stared down at Emma blocking the door. “Let me out of here, now!”

“Lower your voice!” Emma hissed. “Glass needs to think that you’re Walsh, and he never will if he hears your accent.”

“Sidney Glass just fell through an ancient window!” Killian whispered in response. “I’m sure he’s bloody and bruised all over. The last thing he’s going to think about is some damn story. Now let me through so I can help the man! I’m the only person here who knows where to go for medical care. It’s not like we have a hospital on the island!”

“No!” Emma stomped her foot and held firm. “You’re not going anywhere until we get an all clear from Elsa. You don’t know Sidney Glass like I do. His eyes and ears are  _always_  open. If he even gets wind of something fishy going on, he’s going to publish it!”

“Something fishy  _is_  going on! We’re trapped in a broom closet while a man could be bleeding out.”

“He expects me to hide when he’s around. This is normal to him.”

“Well it’s not bloody normal to me. Now, stop being a coward and move!”

“Coward? Did you just call me a coward?” Emma stepped back as far as she could and leveled him with a deadly glare. “How dare you?! I’m not a fucking coward! I have been hounded by the press my entire adult life! My personal freedoms are of no consequence to those vultures. The very fact that Sidney is here proves that!”

“Have you ever thought that you bring it upon yourself? By hiding and overreacting you make yourself a bigger target. They want to keep coming after you because they know they’ll always get a story.”

“What the fuck do you know about it? You’re a thirty something loser who lives with his father because he never bothered to get a real career. For all I know, you’re the one that called Glass in the first place!”

“You call me a loser  _and_ you insult my honor? You have some nerve, Emma Swan.”

Emma pursed her lips as she looked at him. “Well, then it’s a good thing we’re not actually getting married, considering how combative we are.”

“I wouldn’t want to be married to the likes of you anyway.”

“Nor I.”

“Good.”

“Yes, good.”

Then we’re agreed?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly the door cracked open. Emma turned Killian quickly so that his back was to the opening, pressing his body close into hers. He was overwhelmed by her scent, a soft, floral perfume that reminded him of the gardenias Angie used to grow. The swell of her breast pushed into him as his hands fell down to automatically grab onto her hips. He noted how well her body fit against his own. She looked up at him, her soft pink lips parted, and, as he got his first good look at her since that morning, his breath was taken away at how beautiful she was. He was about to lean down and capture her mouth with his own when Elsa cleared her throat.

“Hey guys,” Elsa said, “Do you want to get out of this closet?”

Emma pushed gently on his chest and Killian stepped back, still in a daze. Their eyes were locked on one another as he stepped to the side to allow her to exit first. “Thanks El,” she said, stealing one more glance at Killian before stepping out into the side of chancel. Killian followed her, peeking around the wall to see Sidney sitting in a pew, his cuts being tended to by Dr. Whale, the physician that made house calls on the island. Sidney looked up for a brief second before Killian darted back around the corner and flattened himself against the wall.

“Glass saw me.”

“What?!” Emma hissed, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

“I wanted to see if he was being taken care of. I just peeked around the wall…”

“Walsh! Walsh Ozman!” Sidney called out, clearly not deterred by his injuries. “How does it feel to be a married man? Any comments to share?”

“Shit shit shit shit!” Emma whispered as she bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Be calm,” Elsa said. “Sidney called him Walsh, which means the plan worked. Let’s just get you two out of here. I’ll deal with him.”

Elsa led them down a hall the led off from the Chancel in the opposite direction of the sanctuary. It was not a long journey, and the end of the hall led to a single window, slightly more modern, with the ability to open and close, but no exit doors to speak of. Emma looked back down the hall and sighed forlornly.

“We’re trapped.”

“Just… stay here,” Elsa said, her voice firm. “I’ll get rid of Sidney and let you know when the coast is clear. At least this is more spacious than the closet, right?”

Emma nodded her assent, slumping against the wall while Elsa took off back the way they came.

Killian was still cross with her for the way she’d spoken to him, but, as they stood there, he became more sympathetic to her plight. This Glass man certainly was ruthless.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, he chimed in with “Mr. Hopper was nice, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied. “That was my first time meeting him.”

“This morning? When we were getting ready?”

“No, at the ceremony. But I’d spoken to him before, and he sent me the paperwork for the license beforehand, so I’d already gotten some sense of him. He seems trustworthy, though that didn’t stop Elsa from getting him to sign an ironclad NDA.”

“He came by the room while Elsa was fitting me for the suit. Had me fill out some paperwork.”

“Wait, what?” Emma asked, her head popping up. “What paperwork?”

“It was just some basic demographic information. Where I live, where I was born, who my parents are. That sort of thing.”

“And you just filled it out, without questioning it?”

“I… just… yes. Why does it matter?”

Emma hung her head again and pinched her forehead. “I can’t fucking believe this!” she hissed. “You dumb son of a bitch!”

“More name calling? Is it my turn to call you an entitled bitch yet?” Killian bit back.

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Emma yelled, before lowering her own volume as she continued. “ _You_  are a dumbass because the paperwork you filled out was for the fucking license! If Hopper files that, then we’ll be legally married!”

* * *

Emma watched Killian’s face fall as he took in her words.

“Bloody hell,” he finally said. “We need to find Hopper and stop him from filing!” He turned to run down the hall before Emma grabbed the collar of his shirt and held him back.

“Stop! Sidney can’t see your face, remember?”

“As long as I’m not with you, how will he know I’m not just a friend of the groom?”

“Because that’s a one-of-a-kind suit you’re wearing. And there were no other men dressed like you during the ceremony. Sidney will figure it out. That’s what he does. You can’t risk him seeing you. I won’t let you!”

He stood and watched her for a minute before turning to look at the end of the hall they stood in. “Then I’ll go another way. Run home, change clothes, and come back. I can do that in ten, fifteen minutes tops.” He moved to the window and cracked open the latch. It took some effort, but he was able to lift it. A rusted screen stood on the other side, but he easily removed it and began climbing out. 

“Hey. Wait!” Emma called as she ran to his side. He hung with one leg out the window, looking down. The church was built on a hill, so even though the window was technically on the first floor, they were looking down at a nearly ten foot drop.

Even though she’d been berating him the moment before, she was genuinely concerned for his safety. “Don’t make this jump. You could get hurt!”

“I’ll be fine, love. Islanders are made of more hearty stuff.” She watched as he swung his other leg over and plummeted to the ground. He landed awkwardly, ruining Walsh’s beautiful suit with dirt and mud, but seemed to be okay. He looked up at her and waved shortly before turning to walk away.

Emma stared out the window, inexplicably feeling as bereft as she had the night before when Walsh left. Why did she seem to have such a strong connection to Killian?

She watched him walk away for a bit longer before she heard an unmistakable voice at the other end of the hall.

“Emma!” Sidney said. She heard Elsa hot on his heels, trying to restrain the man, but he was putting up quite a fight, even in his weakened state. Emma looked over her shoulder briefly, panicked, and made an immediate decision. She climbed onto the window ledge, staring at the ground as she chanted to herself “don’t hesitate, just jump.” She took a deep breath, and leapt down to the ground.

* * *

Killian heard a thud and a cry from behind him and turned to see Emma struggling to stand up in the muddy patch of ground at the base of the window. Briefly, he enjoyed the sight of the woman in trouble, after the things she’d said to him, but his sense of honor quickly overrode those thoughts. He ran back to her and helped her stand up. The beautiful dress she’d had on was ruined, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.

“Glass found the hall,” she said immediately upon seeing him. She shivered in the chilly air.

Killian understood the urgency and pulled her to the side, flat against the building. “My father’s house isn’t far. Let’s get there and I can get you some dry clothes and then we can contact Elsa and figure out what to do next.”

“Okay,” she replied.

They hadn’t gone two steps before Killian turned back to her. “Take off your shoes.”

“What? No! I’m not running around barefoot!” She stood defiant for a moment, attempting to hold her ground, until it began to literally sink under her. “Okay, fine,” she conceded, reaching down to remove them.

Once they were able to move unimpeded, Killian led the way. They took a meandering path through a few thickets of trees. At times he had to carry her over especially thorny patches of ground, the irony not lost on him that he was carrying her bridal style.

They finally reached the house, after walking for twice as long as he normally would, just to avoid being followed. Killian opened the door and called out “Dad?”

There was no answer. Brennan always had some sort of background noise, from the TV or radio, so the silent house ensured Killian that his father was absent.

“Is he here?” Emma whispered.

“No, he’s out. Probably finally paying Granny an overdue visit.”

Killian led her up to his room, providing towels, a t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. He procured a fresh pair of jeans and shirt for himself and then ducked into his dad’s room to change. He changed quickly and then stood awkwardly in the hall, waiting for Emma to finish.

The door cracked open a moment later, but he saw she was still wearing the muddy wedding gown. She sheepishly looked up at him. “I need help with the buttons.”

Killian stepped into the room and sidled up to her. They held eye contact for a long moment before she turned, presenting her back. Tentatively, he began to unfasten the buttons.

Even with the added scent of earth, she still smelled amazing. He couldn’t help but graze her creamy skin with the backs of his fingers as he carefully opened the dress. Feeling brave, Killian stepped closer, leaning in so that his breath tickled to space between her neck and shoulder. Emma’s breath hitched in response. She swallowed deeply and turned her head slightly. He could see she was biting her lower lip. He felt an immediate urge to nibble it himself.

When all the buttons were done, he allowed his hands to drift back to her hips, recalling when they’d been in a similar position in the closet. “Thank you,” she finally said to break the tension, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

“Glad to be of service, love,” he whispered back, not moving for fear of breaking the spell.

They stayed like that for long moments, neither one willing to move to and tip the scales one way or the other.

“Killian?” she finally said, still whispering.

“Yes, love?”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

“Me too.”

They were quiet again. After another few minutes, Emma once again broke the silence.

“Killian?”

“Yes?”

“Will you kiss me?”

He exhaled a heavy breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She turned, threading her arms around his neck a second before he fell on her, attacking her mouth with his own. His hands traveled up from her hips to again touch her bare back, tracing featherlight touches over her spine. Emma moaned softly, spurning him on, and he felt a sudden urge to taste her in every way possible. He captured her lower lip between his own, giving it the nibble he’d been aching for earlier. When she gasped in response, he took the opportunity to glide his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her own. She surprised him then by grazing her teeth along it before softly sucking on his upper lip. He groaned in response as he felt himself harden.

* * *

Killian’s groan was delicious, and Emma decided then she’d do anything to make it happen again. She released his neck so she could slide off the delicate lace sleeves of her dress before stepping out of the gown and kicking it to the side. He stepped back, taking her in. Emma was sure she presented quite the picture. She wore a low-backed corset with garters at the bottom, connected to silken thigh-high stockings. The only scrap of clothing she wore over her sex was a flimsy thong which had shifted during their trek so that it now rubbed against her clit, giving just enough pressure to tease but not satisfy.

Killian huffed out a heavy sigh as his hot gaze traced her curves. “Emma, love… I need to leave this room before I lose control.”

“Maybe I want you to lose control,” she cooed in response as she reached down to unfasten her garters. After the emotional roller coaster she’d been on for the last 18 hours, it felt good to seduce a man. She felt in control, and it didn’t hurt that Killian was gorgeous. She looked up at him through her lashes while midway through her task, completely aware of how she looked with her arms pressed against the sides of the corset, fully displaying her cleavage. Once finished, she pushed the hosiery down, removing the muddy garments.

“I could really use a shower,” she moaned, stretching her arms over her head. She reached behind herself and unhooked the corset, letting it fall to the floor. She met his eyes in a challenging gaze as she stood before him wearing nothing but her thong. “Would you care to join me?”

“You’re a minx,” Killian muttered in response, trying and failing to look anywhere but her breasts. But then her nipples tightened in the cold air, drawing his gaze like magnets. “Emma… this isn’t a good idea.”

“I see the way you look at me, Killian. I know you can make me feel good. I’ve been feeling so down. Don’t I deserve to feel good now? Can you do that for me?” Okay, she knew she was laying it on thick, but Emma was fully committed to chasing her high now. She wasn’t going to give in so easily.

He looked pained in response. His erection was straining against his jeans and he looked so conflicted that she almost took pity on him. Almost. Deciding to try one last play, she turned around, reaching for the strings of her thong and sliding them over her hips and ass. Emma knew she had a good ass. She worked hard in the gym to achieve it. She bent at the waist as the thong traveled down her legs. After lingering for a moment with no response, she slowly started to stand, beginning to consider giving up her ploy. Just as she had decided it was a lost cause, she felt his hands land on her hips.

_Bingo._

Killian’s hands kneaded the flesh, his breath short and uneven. He slid one palm over the firm cheeks, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “You bloody tease,” he growled.

Emma tried to stand, but his other hand slid up her back, staying her movement. “Not so fast, love. I’m still admiring the view.”

She flushed in response, glad he couldn’t see her face. Instead, she wiggled her hips. “You’re being the tease,” she replied. “Are you going to give me what I want?”

His palm lifted in response before landing with a thwack on the meat of her ass. She moaned in response. It had been years since anyone had been rough with her in bed, and she’d forgotten how much she liked it. “I’m not going to give you what you want.” Another thwack as he struck the other cheek. “I’m going to give you what you  _need_.”

There was no time to respond, as his hand immediately snaked between her legs to rub at her aching clit. Emma keened at the touch. He hauled her upper body to standing, her back to his chest as he repositioned his hand and continued his assault. His other hand sought out a nipple, pinching and twisting.

“Is this what you want?” he groaned in her ear. “Is this what you were trying to get me to do, you siren?” He dipped his fingers into her channel before dragging some wetness up and increasing the pressure on her bundle of nerves.

Emma moaned and leaned her head back on his shoulder. “Oh god…”

“Just Killian, love. And you didn’t answer me. I’m not going to let you come until you do.” She whined in response, but he continued unperturbed. “Tell me, Emma. Were you trying to seduce me?”

“Yesssss…” she hissed as he slipped his fingers inside her, continuing to rub her clit with his thumb. “Oh, Killian, more please. That feels so damn good…”

“That’s the idea, love.” he suddenly released her, stepping back so that she felt empty without his body pressed into hers. She turned and looked at him. His eyes were nearly feral, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his erection was so hard it tented the front of his pants. “Look at what you do to me, Swan.”

She gave him a tiny nod as she took him in. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, unzipping his pants.

* * *

Killian gaped in disbelief as Emma made quick work of his jeans and boxers, until his firm cock stood proudly between them. She wasted no time before trailing her tongue up the length of him. She gently sucked on the tip, and his head rolled back. He wrestled with the urge to let her keep going before finally making up his mind. He reached down and gently shoved on her shoulders.

She met his gaze questiongly, and he hurried to reassure her. “I believe it is  _I_  who was to make  _you_ feel good. And I intend to make good on that promise. On the bed, now.”

Emma’s smile turned sultry as she stood and sat on the bed, her legs dangling from the end. Killian silently thanked Angie for having the foresight to replace the twin XL from his youth with a queen-size mattress. He could only imagine how awkward this would be in his former bed.

He stepped over to her and pressed down on her shoulders, encouraging her to lie back, before sinking to his knees. Spreading her legs wide, he leaned in and licked a stripe from her hot center to her clit. She tasted incredible, and his eyes rolled back in ecstacy. He focused on his task, tracing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue while he slipped one, then two fingers into her channel.

“Killian! More of that!” Emma cried as he sucked on her clit. He continued his assault, sucking and licking and pumping, using his other hand to hold her writhing hips still.

“Oh god… I’m gonna come!” Emma called out, her back bowing of the bed while her hands plunged through his hair. “Oh… oh…” she squealed twice before finally crying out as she came all over his tongue. “KILLIAN!!” He continued to lap at her sweetness until she shoved him away with her heel.

Emma leaned up on her elbows, looking at him as he continued to kneel between her legs. They were both panting for breath, neither sure what to say. Killian’s own erection lay heavy between his thighs, but he didn’t want to move from this spot. Emma Swan was a goddess, and he wanted to continue worshipping her.

A knock on his bedroom door suddenly broke the tension. “Killian?” A voice asked, turning the handle. “Are you in here?”

Killian recognized the speaker as Ruby and leapt to his feet, running to the door to block her entry. Emma jumped up from the bed, grabbing the clothes he gave her, and enclosed herself in the closet.

“Ruby,” Killian asked from behind the closed door. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad is down at the diner visiting Granny, so I thought this was a good time to come see you.” Her voice clearly demonstrated her ire, rising in pitch as she continued to talk. “I wanted to talk more about our discussion yesterday. See if we could make something work. But it seems like you’ve already gone and found someone else!”

“Ruby, wait, let me explain…”

“Explain what?!” Ruby shocked him by throwing all her weight against the door, forcing it open and shoving him backward. She stared incredulously at the pants hovering around his knees. “Who is she?! Who the hell could you have found so fast on a two-mile long island?!”

Killian hurriedly pulled up his jeans, but before he could reply, the closet door burst open with Emma wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d provided her before their interlude began.

“ _She_  was under the impression he was single!” Emma cried, her fire exceeding Ruby’s. She turned to Killian and lifted a hand, striking him across the cheek. “How  _dare_  you! You know I was left just last night by a man who was cheating on me! And you have the audacity to cheat on your girlfriend with me? You disgust me, Killian Jones!”

She made to push past him, but he held out a hand to stop her. “Emma, wait. She’s not my-”

“Oh save your fucking excuses! I don’t want to hear them!” She stormed out of the room, running down the stairs and out of the house before he could gather his wits. He turned on Ruby.

“What the bloody hell was that?!”

Ruby, in all her 21-year old wisdom, seemed thoroughly convinced she was in the right. “You have no right to talk to me that way! You lied to me!”

“I did no such thing!”

“Yes you did!” Her voice choked up as her eyes filled with tears. “You told me that you weren’t ready for a relationship! And then I come over here to find you doing… whatever you were just doing with her. What could she possibly offer you that I couldn’t?”

Killian softened, recognizing some of himself in the beautiful young woman standing before him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair in a brotherly gesture. “Ruby, love, this is not about you. You are a brilliant, gorgeous, enticing woman that anyone would be lucky to have. I should have been more forthright with you yesterday. I can’t do anything of that sort with you. I will always think of you as a little sister.”

Ruby sighed heavily in response. “Dammit, I wish you would have just said that to me yesterday.”

“You and me both, darling.”

“I suppose you should go after her. Want me to come, explain things?”

“No, but stay close in case I change my mind.”

“Who was she, anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I said Emma Swan?”

Ruby pulled back and gaped at him. “Emma Swan? Really? You were just going down on Emma Swan? You lucky dog you!”

“It’s a long story, but…” he trailed off. “Wait, why do you think I was going down on her?”

She grinned slyly. “Your face smells like pussy. Better wash it before you go find her.”

Killian grimaced. “Aye, that I will.” He turned to the door, intent on doing just that, when Ruby spoke up again.

“I guess that explains why there were all those reporters hanging around the church!”

He turned slowly to look upon her once more. “Reporters? As in multiple?”

“Yeah, there were at least 50 of them.”

"Bloody hell."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the delay! This has been a really busy time personally, and I haven't had much time to devote to writing. Here is part 4. No guarantees, but I will try to get the final installment up by the end of next week.

Emma huffed in annoyance as she walked away from the lighthouse. Fortunately, Storybrooke Island being so tiny made it very easy to navigate. She knew that, as long as she followed the main road, she’d be at Granny’s soon. She kept to the grassy shoulder, cursing her bare feet. She was going to have the world’s best pedicure as soon as she got back to LA. 

 

The pants Killian gave her sagged on her hips. She’d tied the drawstring as tight as she could, but she still feared for their ability to hold. The shirt he’d given her was likewise enormous, her figure swimming within it. She was sure that she looked like a wild person, storming along the side of the road with her bare feet, baggy clothes, and sex hair.

 

Shit. She had sex hair. Of course she did. Before his girlfriend walked in, Killian had given her the best orgasm of her life. She very vividly remembered thrashing her head against the bedspread as he’d tended to her. The man had an extremely talented tongue. A small part of her wished the girlfriend hadn’t walked in so soon, so Emma could have seen what else he could do.

 

But she immediately cursed herself at the thought. Killian was in a relationship. He’d cheated on his (very young) girlfriend, who’d sounded genuinely hurt when she’d found them together like that. Less than 24 hours ago, Emma had learned of her own fiance’s infidelity, and now she was helping another man do the same. She felt utterly wretched. How could Zelena have gone along with Walsh when she was fully aware that he was attached to, marrying, even, another woman? Just the thought that she’d caused pain for this Ruby was eating Emma from the inside out.

 

Were all men like this? Were the cynical anecdotes calling all men dogs speaking the truth? No, that couldn’t be the case. Her friend and lawyer David Nolan was the perfect example that there were good, honest men in the world. He loved his wife, Mary Margaret, with everything in him, and doted on her and their two children, Leo and Ava. David would never, not in a million years, cheat on Mary Margaret or do anything to hurt his family. Emma knew that without a doubt.

 

So yes, there were good men in the world, but unfortunately Emma had a talent for finding the rotten ones. She stomped along the road, uncaring now if anyone saw her. Let her come upon Sidney Glass now. She’d strike a pose for him in all her crazy glory. Let it make all the papers. She didn’t care anymore.

 

As she continued her trek, passing by a few houses set along the main road, she heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Killian catching up.

 

“Swan! Please, wait.”

 

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!”

 

“But, Emma, please, I need to explain.”

 

“Explain what?! How you willingly cheated on your adolescent girlfriend? What’s the matter? Get tired of spending time with a youngin’ and wanted to experience something with someone your own age?”

 

“Damn infuriating woman!” Killian yelled before she could continue her tirade. “Ruby is NOT my girlfriend!”

 

Emma stared at him, unable to think of a coherent response. Killian was huffing, out of breath like he’d run to catch up with her. After a drawn-out silence, she finally spoke up. “She’s not?”

 

“No!” His face twisted in an expression of disgust. “I’ve known her since she was very little. She’s like a sister to me in many ways. I could NEVER be with her in that way.”

 

“Then what the hell was going on back there? Because that wasn’t how a sister speaks to a brother.”

 

“She is very young, and I think she's trying to make a point of owning her sexuality. She made a pass at me yesterday, and I failed to let her down properly. I led her to think I was more open to participating in those…” here he waved his hand in the air in front of his face, “…activities with her than I actually am.”

 

“So you see her as a sister, but she doesn’t see you as a brother?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

Emma was dumbfounded. The emotional turmoil of the day had reared up once more, and she felt the stirrings of tears in her cheeks and nose. “So… you aren’t dating her?”

 

“No, Emma. Please believe me. I would never cheat on someone I was with. That’s not the kind of man I am or want to be. Being a man of honor is one of the most important things to me.”

 

“Honor… right. So… I suppose my actions weren’t very honorable, were they? Seducing you like I did and then using you to make myself feel better.” Damnit! She promised herself not to be self-pitying, but there it was.

 

“Swan, please don’t feel bad. What we did, before Ruby walked in, was incredible. The most amazing experience of my life.” Killian paused, appearing to be deciding something, before he grabbed her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I am truly sorry you were given the wrong impression, and that my thoughtless actions led to that.”

 

Emma pulled his hand closer and held it against her chest, closing her eyes and breathing in his masculine scent. He smelled so good, woodsy with a hint of ocean air. For a brief moment, standing with this man she felt an unexplainable connection to, she had a strong longing for home. A longing fiercer than she'd ever felt before. Visions flashed in her mind of settling down in this very island. Living a quiet life, away from the press. Sidney wouldn't stay here forever. What if she stayed after he left? 

 

Killian stepped in closer, tentatively wrapping his other arm around her waist. "What are you thinking of?"

 

"What was it like, growing up on this island?"

 

"Um… dull at times, most certainly, but also quite idyllic. Life here moves at a different pace."

 

"What's your favorite memory?"

 

 He paused for a moment, considering. "I remember trips to the farmer's market on the mainland with Angie. It was an all day affair. She'd get us boys up early and we'd take the ferry over. We'd go to the market with her and load up on produce and sometimes fresh meats and cheeses. I loved sampling all the different wares from the vendors. After we were done there, she'd take us boys to the library and let us spend an hour picking out books to bring back with us. We'd ride the ferry back and show dad all our acquisitions. After mine and Liam's lackluster upbringing, it was quite nice to have so much… normalcy."

 

Emma sighed deeply, picturing herself in the same situation. "That would be lovely." She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "Maybe it's all the insane events of the last day, but I can't help but think about how nice it would be to hide away from all the craziness here."

 

"Are you saying you'd want to… stay?"

 

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I have friends and responsibilities in LA, but this seems like such a nice refuge."

 

* * *

 

Killian felt his heart speed up in his chest at the thought of Emma staying.He stood in awe of her, still beautiful even as she stood there in baggy clothes with messy hair. He'd treasure a chance to court her properly, and his mind ran away with visions of taking her a proper date.

 

Footsteps in the gravel road burst their bubble. The land sloped in just such a way that they could not see the person presently cresting the hill. In a rush Killian recalled why he was running to warn Emma.

 

"Swan, I don't know how, but there are more reporters on the island. Ruby mentioned it, and I came to warn you."

 

Her face paled in response. "Oh god… a minute ago I was ready to take on Sidney, but I don't think I could do it anymore. At least not dressed like this!"

 

Taking stock of their surrounding, Killian spotted a small house sitting by the side of the road. He pointed to it. "That home there is vacant. Go hide in it."

 

"Won't it be locked?"

 

"No one locks their doors here."

 

She eyed him warily, but turned to do as he instructed. Killian followed, seeing her safely inside the home before turning to face their intruder.

 

Brennan Jones crested the hill, smiling when he saw his son.

 

“Killian!” he called out. “Great news!”

 

Killian stayed by the side of the house Emma was hiding in and waited for his father to approach. “What’s up, Dad?”

 

“I just made an easy $5,000, and I’ve got a chance for another twenty grand!”

 

Eyeing his father wearily, Killian asked “How?”

 

“I called my old friend Sidney Glass last night and told him what you told me about Emma Swan being on the island. He paid me five grand off the bat and told me he’d give me a cut of whatever he gets for selling his pictures. He said he could easily get a hundred grand for it, and that would mean twenty for me!”

 

Killian gaped at his father. “You… what? How do you even know Sidney Glass?”

 

“We worked together for a bit when I first came to the States, before I met Angie and moved here. I knew he was a journalist, so when you told me that last night, I gave him a call.”

 

“I…dad… I can’t believe you! I told you last night to leave her alone! Why would you do this?”

 

Brennan looked at his son as if he’d sired a moron. “Because Sidney is paying me,” he replied, drawing his words out slowly.

 

“Dad, if you need money, I could’ve helped you get some. We’d have figured it out. You didn’t need to sell out that poor woman in the process.”

 

“What’s going on with you? I figured you’d be happy for me.”

 

“Well I’m bloody well not! Why the hell did you need that money anyway?”

 

Seeming to finally comprehend the fact that Killian was angry with him, Brennan struck back. “Because I need to get the hell off this island!” he yelled in response.

 

“What?” Killian asked, the flames in his belly instantly receding as he registered the pain in his father’s voice.

 

“I need to get away!” Brennan cried, choking on his tears. “I only moved here because Angie wanted to. I see her everywhere I look. I can’t stand it anymore. I’m going to sell the house and move to the mainland, back to a city.”

 

“Dad,” Killian said, at a loss for words. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father. He knew Brennan was having a hard time dealing with Angie’s death, but he’d never known how much pain the other man was in.

 

“I miss her,” Brennan choked into his son’s shoulder.

 

Killian patted his father’s back. Movement from one of the windows caught his eye, and he saw Emma peeking out from behind the curtain. It appeared she’d heard everything, and looked just as conflicted as he felt.

 

When Brennan seemed to run out of tears, Killian released him. “Why don’t you go back to the house, dad? I need to take care of something with Ruby, and then I’ll head home and we can figure this out. We don’t need to sell out Emma Swan to get you what you want.”

 

“Okay,” Brennan said with a hiccup. “I’ll see you there. Fish sandwiches or stew for dinner?”

 

Killian cracked a smile. “How about burgers, at Granny’s? My treat.”

 

“Alright son. I’ll see you later.”

 

Brennan stepped away, walking more slowly toward his house than he’d been before encountering his son. Killian breathed a deep sigh before turning toward the door to the house and knocking briefly.

 

* * *

 

Emma opened the door to a very anxious Killian.

 

“Swan… I am so sorry. I truly had no idea my father even knew Sidney Glass, and if I’d had an idea of what he was going to do, I would have told you straightaway.”

 

“I believe you,” Emma replied, calmly. 

 

“How much did you hear?” he asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

 

“Everything.” She stared at him across the threshold. “You’re really sure we’re okay to squat in this house? I find it hard to believe no one lives here.”

 

“I can guarantee you that no one does,” Killian replied, gesturing toward the covered furniture in the living room. “The previous owner died last year, and people aren’t exactly clamoring to move to the island.”

 

“But the house still has electricity. Wouldn’t that have been shut off with no one paying the bill?”

 

“The electricity for the island comes from a generator. The residents have a collective that they pay into each month to maintain it. I’d imagine everyone just increased their contribution when Mrs. White died. It’s not like anyone was in the house to use it.” He sighed and slumped into a covered chair. “Anyway, we’ll be fine to stay here for today.”

 

“Okay, good. I wonder if I can wait out those reporters.”

 

“Would you like me to fetch Elsa and bring her here?”

 

Emma felt her face relax for the first time that day. “Would you?”

 

“Of course, love. I feel terrible about what my dad did.”

 

“It’s not your fault. This entire day has been such a disaster.”

 

“Even so, I wish I could go back to yesterday and stop him from placing that phone call.”

 

Emma breathed slowly, unsure how to respond. They stood for a moment, in awkward silence, and she felt an overwhelming urge to kiss the man. At the same time, her cheeks began to flare, reflecting the shame she felt at having so wantonly seduced him. She snuck a peak at his face and recognized the same play of emotions on Killian’s face. They both opened their mouths at the same time to speak, then both closed their lips. Just when she thought she would scream from the discomfort of the situation, Killian broke the tension.

 

“Bloody hell… I want to kiss you so badly.”

 

* * *

 

Emma gasped at his words, and Killian almost took that as permission to step forward and capture her mouth with his own. He imagined her moaning as he wrapped his lips around her pout, sucking gently. In contrast to their earlier actions, he would keep the kiss soft, tenderly tracing first her upper then her lower lip with his tongue. He pictured her tilting her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and him threading a hand through her hair, gently cupping the back of her head. Her hands would slide around his neck and onto his shoulder blades, scrambling for purchase. Killian’s other hand would slide down to her hip, pulling her body into his own.

 

“Killian… Killian… Are you there?”

 

He startled back to awareness, staring at the siren before him. He’d  _ never _ had an experience like there, where he drifted off fantasizing about a woman. “Sorry love. You were saying?”

 

Emma grimaced, and he felt a tiny pang that he was making her repeat something unpleasant. “I was saying that I don’t think…” she sighed heavily before continuing. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to repeat what we did earlier. At least not today. I need to take some time to get my head on straight. This last day has been insane. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I jumped into something new before getting myself settled.”

 

The pang in his chest expanded to a full-blown heartache. Although her words made complete sense, Killian couldn’t help feeling rejected. When would he ever see her again once she left the island? It’s not like he could follow her back to LA and show up on her doorstep. Considering all her struggles with the press, her home was no doubt behind a veritable fortress of security measures.

 

He cleared his throat and looked at his shoes. “Of course. I understand. Should I go and fetch Elsa now?”

 

“Um… yes, please.” He turned to open the door. She spoke again as he was reaching for the handle. “Killian?”

 

There was traitorous flutter of hope in his heart. “Yes, love?”

 

She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. Just as he’d determined to turn again and continue on his new mission, she decided what to say. “Thank you. For… for everything. These last 24 hours have been excruciating, but you have been my port in the storm.”

 

Killian closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. After living on an island for most of his life, and spending his formative years working on a fishing boat, the fact that she used a nautical metaphor touched him. It spoke to how well matched they were, making her rejection sting more. 

 

“I am glad to have had a chance to help you.”

 

He turned before she could say anything else and walked away from the house, toward the Inn, where he expected Elsa to be. The walk felt like it took mere seconds, barely giving him any time to clear the tears swimming in his eyes.

 

Stepping up to Granny’s, he encountered a bigger crowd than he’d ever seen in the diner, even during the tourist season. Every table was full, including the three wrought-iron tables on the porch. Granny appeared behind the counter as he walked in. 

 

“There you are! Your dad was asking where you’d got to today.” 

 

Killian walked around the bar to face her, noting that the bar itself was also brimming with people. “What’s all this?”

 

“Reporters!” Granny said, not bothering to hide her disgust, though, by the looks of it, she was going to have a record-setting day for sales. “They’re all here camping out because they think some damn actress is staying on the island!”

 

“Emma Swan! We go’ a tip that she’d be here and there’d be a ‘ell of a story!” Chimed in one man, slumping over the bar top, his head resting in his hands lazily.

 

Killian looked questioningly to Granny, but she only grunted in annoyance before refilling the man’s beer. Having been dismissed, Killian continued toward the back of the diner. Most of the patrons would assume he was visiting the restroom, but he took a turn at the last second and ascended the back stairs toward the Inn.

 

Once upstairs, he knocked on the door to the room he knew Elsa was staying in.

 

From the other side of the door, he heard her yell “Go the fuck away you vultures, or I will sue your ass so hard that your grandchildren will still be paying your debts!”

 

“It’s me,” he hissed. “Killian Jones.”

 

Elsa cracked the door and peered out, before finally opening it entirely and letting him enter. “Thank God. Where’s Emma. Is she okay?”

 

“She’s fine. She’s safe. We found a house that she’s hiding in.”

 

“Thank the Lord.”

 

“Why are all these people here? I wouldn’t think Sidney Glass would be the kind of man to share a story.”

 

“Fucking Walsh tipped them off. I’m sure this is part of his plan to punish Emma for wising up to his bullshit.”

 

“That bastard,” Killian growled in response. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I have a plan. Can you get me to Emma?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay good,” Elsa replied, picking up a leather duffel. 

 

“What’s in there?”

 

“A change of clothes and some makeup and hair supplies. I’d imagine Emma is in need of freshening up, and she’ll want to look her best for the next phase of the plan.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Emma could do nothing but pace the length of the small living room while she awaited Killian’s return. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized with a pang that she hadn’t eaten anything all day. In vain she looked through the pantry and cabinets of the kitchen, but found nothing to eat.

 

As she was closing the last cabinet, she heard the front door to the house open, and her heart jumped into her throat. She eyed the back door, preparing to bolt again, when she heard Elsa’s voice.

 

“Emma?!”

 

Relief flooded her body, and she turned to embrace her friend.

 

“Oh! You’re okay!” Elsa cooed, hugging her tighter. “I was so worried!”

 

Emma couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m okay, Els. I’m okay.”

 

“Good.” Elsa replied. “Today has gone to utter shit.”

 

“I know. Killian told me about all the reporters. I know now how Sidney got here, but I have no idea how they knew about it.”

 

“Wait… you know who tipped off Sidney?”

 

Emma looked up to see Killian over Elsa’s shoulder. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Erm… my dad, he… he knew Sidney from when they were young. He called and let Glass know Emma was here after I mentioned to him last night that I thought I saw her.”

 

Elsa rounded on the man. “You what?! Did you know about this all along?!”

 

“No! No! I swear, I had no clue.” 

 

“He’s telling the truth, Els.”

 

Elsa looked at her incredulously, so Emma recounted what she’d overheard Brennan Jones say to his son. Elsa still looked wary once she’d finished, but seemed pacified.

 

“Okay, we can work with that.” She paused, and Emma could see the wheels turning in her friend’s head. 

 

“What are you planning?”

 

Squaring her shoulders, Elsa turned to fully face Emma. “It’s time for you to stop running. Even without Killian’s dad interfering, Walsh sold you out. It’s time to expose him for the piece of shit he is.”

 

“How do you propose to do that?” Killian asked.

 

She looked at him slyly. “With you.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Your dad wants money to buy a house somewhere off the island, right? We will pay you enough money to buy a house cash if you will agree to pretend to be Emma’s husband for one year.”

 

“What?” Emma asked, panic lacing her tone.

 

“We’re gonna get you cleaned up, walk right up to the diner, and have a press conference.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over on Tumblr! I'm @branlovestowrite


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